Review – Our Ladies of Perpetual Succour, National Theatre

When Phil told his mother he was going to see Our Ladies of Perpetual Succour she asked, in all innocence, “What are they sucking?”

Quite a lot as it turned out. Perhaps that’s the gag.

Review – James III: The True Mirror, National Theatre

It was too big a commitment to book for all 3 of Rona Munro‘s James Plays despite Phil having a bit of Scottish blood in him and James as a middle name. So he opted for the third one, The True Mirror solely for the reason that it featured The Killing‘s sweater girl Sofie Gråbøl. He’s shallow like that.

Then he saw the reviews, with some critics finding this the least successful of the trilogy. Oh dear. Apparently a very different tone to the other bloodier ones, but it was a tone that suited Phil from the moment he saw the pre-performance Highland(ish) jigging (arranged by Alasdair MacRae) to Pharrell Williams’ hugely infectious “Happy”. Even though the nifty dancing was performed against a live set of bagpipes (an instrument he usually finds deeply irritating) and a hammered dulcimer (a hammered dulcimer!!!) he knew he’d have the tune stuck in his head for the next few days.

Review – Let the Right One In, Apollo Theatre

A few things you may not know about Let the Right One In.

Let the Right One In is not a UKIP immigration policy.

Nor is Let the Right One Nigel Farage’s new campaign slogan. Well, not yet anyway.

Phil can’t think of the title, Let the Right One without humming “The Hokey Cokey”.

Review – Peter Pan, Barbican Theatre

With the Whingers finding their theatrical diaries peculiarly empty four star reviews in the FT and in the Daily Telegraph*turned the Whingers’ last minute fancy to the new version of J M Barrie‘s  Peter Pan at the Barbican Theatre.

Money being quite tight at the moment following the excesses of the West End Whingers’ party, Phil phoned the Barbican’s charming (it turns out) press officer to see if they might consider giving generously only to be told that the centre’s policy was not to supply comps for bloggers unless they were affiliated to some sort of august journal (we’re paraphrasing slightly).

Phil shoved his gearstick of charm into top gear and after a little deliberation the Barbican relented and agreed to give the Whingers one free ticket (you can see why Phil doesn’t try speed dating) but the Whingers would have to buy the second one. Yes it was just like those supermarket Buy-One-Get-One-Free Offers. At least on this occasion Phil was given a BOGOF rather than being told to BOG OFF for once.

So with their noses slightly out of joint (well, one nose out of joint) the Whingers thought it only appropriate they should produce half a review – maybe just the bad bits or every other word, perhaps. Better still: every other letter!

J h (B a k W t c) T f a y’s N t o a T e t e o S o l n‘s c -p o u t o  w t  t e B r i a o D v d G e g‘s g i t y n w v r i n of J  B r i ‘s P t r P n h s e t n u s e  a l a s c a i n  w t p n t .

Review – Be Near Me, Donmar Warehouse

Dear Phil

I hope you are having a nice time at your mother’s.

Strange that you should have to go and see her on the very weekend that I had tickets for  Be Near Me at the Donmar Warehouse. Sometimes I think  you don’t really like the theatre at all.

Or had someone perhaps tipped you off as to the fact that nothing happens in the entire first act (almost) of this two and a half hour play adapted by Ian McDiarmid from the novel by Andrew O’Hagan.

Review – Black Watch, Barbican

The Whingers were quite prepared for Black Watch to confront them with the brutalities and the horrors of war but nothing had prepared them for the atrocity they faced on entering the auditorium: the National Theatre of Scotland’s production has converted the Barbican’s traditional(-ish) theatre into a traverse stage. Yes, the proscenium was still there, but the Whingers were actually sitting behind it or under it. They were very confused.

Now, regular readers will know that the Whingers oft-bemoan the absence of a proscenium arch and have been known to take an instant dislike to anything using “alternative” forms of staging: in the round, the square, thrust and – worst of all – traverse. So this was not a good start to the evening.